The captain’s teeth grated together, “Yes.”
“Leave the orders and go.”
The man cursed, tossed the envelope he had been holding on the bed, turned on his heel and took one step to the door. He paused, frozen in midstep. A brush of warm breath made the hairs rise along the back of his neck. He swallowed, pulled himself together and stepped through the door. Scythe, who was standing just behind him, reached over and pulled the door closed.
Basking in the sweet rush of heat and adrenaline in his veins and listening to the satisfied purr that started up after he sent the coyote running with his tail between his legs, he forgot to take a minute to calm himself. Scythe’s gaze shifted to Mercy, and the hostile look made her fear him for the first time in her life.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered immediately, pulling the blanket up to her chest and bringing her knees with it. Instinctively, her power formed into a shield and surrounded her: an exotic and beautiful display of glowing layers of energy that blossomed from her body and overlapped each other in large, curved petals.
He blinked at the beauty of it and his eyes thawed slightly. The urge to fight bled away at the sight of her expression and the shield that she had brought up to protect herself from him.
What had she said? ‘I’m sorry’?
No, it was my mistake, he argued with the part of him that said it was her fault. He knew better than to risk his neck, but he had done it anyway. There was no changing that now. What was done, was done, so all that was left to do was try to patch up the situation.
He pushed and he breathed deeply, and when he was ready, he pulled on his warm cloak again, the one that put everyone at ease. It was the one that knew that if he mentioned family Reave would probably make an allowance for him, and if he put his foot on the bed Mercy would reach out to it and be comforted. He hated that damn thing.
Moving to the bedside, he held out his hand and beckoned for hers. Still cautious, she nevertheless let her shield drop, probably because she so badly wanted to believe that she didn’t need it around him. The petals peeled down as if the flower were opening up and either dissolved or soaked back into her; he made an effort to not stare at it.
She slowly put her hand on his, watching his face closely. He nodded when a few tentative ribbons rose from her skin and hovered, twisting in the air. They wrapped themselves around both of their hands.
Scythe shifted irritably in his seat. He had planned to avoid talking to her this way, but he needed to discuss a few things without being overheard; using her power to speak together was the securest way to accomplish that in a building filled with Kin.
The instant that she joined them, Mercy let go of all her reservations about him. She smiled at the chance to share thoughts the way they used to. Scythe. Her inner voice was a gentle, sweetly scented breeze that flowed through his body. The way his heart leapt at that one simple word aggravated him, and it only made it more annoying to know that because of their connection she would know it.
Softly, so softly that he didn’t notice, an old enemy began to wake.
He spoke first, with the intention of getting it over with as soon as possible. You should be heading home in a couple of days. Don’t leave the city again, Mercy, no matter how much you want to help people. Do you see how close you are to being taken again?
She nodded. Yes. Through the ribbon, he felt her chill. The memory of walking into a room where her aunt was tied to a chair with a bag over her head passed from her to him. His own memory he kept to himself: surrounded by Kin guards in a warehouse, a younger Mercy stood next to an unresponsive Lena and hid her terror behind a calm face.
Forget whatever you think I can do for you. If they find out about your power, they will come for you, even in the city, and no one, not even me, will be able to get you back. Do you understand?
Yes. She nodded again, fearfully accepting his straightforward explanation.
He could feel her trying to wrap him in her power, but he held her away, focusing so that she could only sense the words and images that he sent her, and not the rest of himself. She, on the other hand, held back nothing, and her fear for herself and for him permeated the connection between them.
His old enemy rolled over. It drew in the scent of her power. Mercy...
She was worried about how Reave’s determined face had looked just a few moments ago, and how he had threatened them.
Don’t worry about him. He is not our problem.
Scythe, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble…
He lifted an eyebrow, because his connection to her showed him that she was uncomfortable with deceiving him about something. He probed, You didn’t come out here to help the Kin, did you?
She flushed and tried to pull her hand out of his, but he held it fast. I… When she saw that he would see anyway, she sighed. I came to help.
Then it came to him easily. She had been telling the truth, in a very typical, Human half-truth kind of way. She had contrived to get herself assigned to that dangerous unit because she knew that it would lead her to him. It was Scythe that she wanted to help.
It lifted its head and looked around curiously. When its eyes cracked, Scythe became aware of it. Instantly, he panicked. He had struggled for years to control that part of himself, to function normally. He had used himself as a lab rat, trying to find a cure where none existed. He had tackled mountains of research. He had picked apart his mind and ravaged his own body, dedicated to finding a way to keep his enemy silent, to reign over his own life. Finally he had found a solution. He couldn’t destroy his enemy, but he could bury it, and that’s what he had done: bury the selfish, destructive beast a thousand feet deep. Since that time, the only hint he’d had of it was the occasional echo of its voice up the crevasse, trying to be heard. When that happened, he ignored it and it went away.
However, what he felt now was not an echo. It was the demon.
Mercy spoke quickly, unaware of his inner conflict, believing that he was still reacting to her revelation. I had another vision, one of you. I knew that you would be here if I came at this time. And, I saw, too, that you were hurt…
He barely heard her. He gathered his will and clamped down so hard on the beast in his soul that the backlash of it shook them both. It disappeared.
Fueled by his relief, a fire ignited.
You wanted to help? I don’t want your help! What the hell is in your head? You don’t know a damn thing about my life. Your 'help' has hurt my position here, made my life much harder. I have had to ask for things from people that I don’t want to owe favors to, just to keep you safe. You… He knew he should stop himself, but the thought flew out of his grasp. You endangered a good man, a friend of your family, a friend of mine, with your unwelcome meddling, and now he is dead.
His harsh words triggered a wave of overwhelming pain and guilt that washed over her and spilled onto him. She quailed wordlessly, but he felt no sympathy for her. Reckless, opinionated, self-centered child. You are so Human.
The last word was filled with all the aspects of his mother’s people that he had learned to hate: lying, self-righteous, thoughtless, egotistical empty shells half-living their made up lives.
When he pulled his hand away and stood up, she choked aloud frantically, “Wait…”
“No,” he said, stepping away from her with his hands up. “No more. You almost died. Did you see that?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I only saw you…” She reached out to him and the sight of it infuriated him. He was hit by the same compulsion he felt when he was walking through the market: he wanted to swat the flies that were buzzing all around him.
He brought his arms down and away from her so that he would use his voice instead of his hands, “You will go home and you will not pull another stunt like this. Your family, at least, cares about you, even if you are too stupid to care about yourself. I’m washing my hands of you.”
The part of him that was thrilled about how things w
ere turning out encouraged him to vent his frustration on someone in a very physical way. Instead, he strode to the bed, grabbed the envelope and took it to the door. He leaned against the doorjamb and worked on restraining himself. Within a few seconds, the tight control that he always kept over himself was reestablishing itself. He began to open the seal.
“Scythe, please listen…you...”
His look stopped her. “I’ve made my life and it doesn’t include you anymore. Keep away from me, Mercy. I mean it.”
She shut her lips tight, but continued to stare at him with reddened cheeks. Shortly, the inevitable happened. He turned his back so he wouldn’t have to watch.
He pushed a breath irritably through his lips, ignoring her quiet sobs, and started to review the documents inside. A few seconds later, his head jerked and his eyes began to fly back and forth over the page.
“Shit!”
Chapter 6
[host id: scy241]
[negotiating connection]
[guest id: ******]
[guest]: i expected you sooner<
[host]: the request was for a return to menelaus<
[guest]: their eye is on her now<
[host]: my agreement with you stipulated that certain individuals would have immunity from their eye<
[guest]: that is inaccurate_your agreement with me was based on your freedom to choose_the agreement with them was never codified_i have in good faith and in deference to your achievements tried to honor your preferences as much as possible_however that has become inadvisable<
[host]: explain<
[guest]: there is an unverified report of dreams of the future_a strong power is suspected_a watcher is being deployed<
[host]: ours q<
[guest]: yes temper_the eler will accept the word of the watcher but will also have the testimony of their people_i expect that the human detachment will include eler operatives<
[host]: understood_what are the parameters q<
[guest]: the girl will remain attached to your unit until the terrorist cell is eliminated_if nothing is observed about her by then she will return with her people to menelaus_i recommend you complete asap_this is the most I could do<
[host]: i am grateful for your intervention<
[guest]: you have earned what support the hedeler can give_be advised_if she has or develops such a power acquisition is inevitable and unavoidable<
[host]: understood_inquiry_was my meeting her arranged q<
[guest]: not to my knowledge but it does seem unlikely to have been a coincidence_inquiry_records indicate that you have accessed data above your clearance_is this true q<
[host]: yes_i have utilized the database and data technicians_i request a higher clearance_this access is essential to my work<
[guest]: you must learn to hide your trail better_i am attaching protocols_your request for increased access is approved_a data tech will be assigned to you<
[host]: i request aorin_have her start a data sift for this mission today_i will send her the threads i want her to follow<
[guest]: agreed_advisory_you are drawing their attention again_keep your head down<
[host]: understood<
[disconnected]
Scythe stowed the tablet in his backpack with the rest of his things. He pulled out a small device from one of the pockets and handed it to Mercy.
He informed her in a short, crisp voice, “I’m going to get some real sleep. I think you’re safe for now, but I want you to keep this with you.” The transmitter was just a precaution. The Scere had determined that she would be staying with their unit until the terrorists were located, so he didn’t have to worry about her disappearing on him. The only benefit of the otherwise disastrous turn of events was that it was now the job of the Scere’s detachment to keep her there, so he wouldn’t need to involve himself as much as he had.
She took it and clipped it to her shirt. “Scythe…” she started.
“Someplace hidden,” he prompted, and waited until she hid it. “It only works if activated; you just press the center.” He shrugged on his backpack. “They are watching you all the time now, so don’t do anything stupid if you can help it.”
“You can sleep here,” she suggested in a very quiet voice. “You took those short naps here before.”
“I need more than that and some space from you.”
He left abruptly, closing the door behind him and turning to walk past five doors to the room designated as a barracks. He picked up the duffle that was on top of the best-placed cot and dumped it on one of the other available beds. Then, after a short check of his weapons, he lay down with his bag tucked safely beside him. Thinking of the discussion with his contact in the Hedeler made him blow a breath through his lips that ended in tightly clenched teeth.
She’s as good as theirs. No use fighting it, he told himself, but the statement lacked conviction, even to him.
He tried to force himself to accept the probability of her working for the Eler. She was too immature and too inexperienced to withstand the pressures that they would put on her: bribes, threats to herself and to her family. They might even use him as a bargaining chip if they thought she valued him enough to be blackmailed with his safety. No, she didn’t have a chance. He himself had only been able to avoid complete subversion by a combination of luck and obstinacy; in the end, he had had to accept a lesser form of their control.
He envisioned Mercy standing across from him and focusing that tremendous power on him. At the moment, she didn’t have full control but it wouldn't be long before she developed it. He still hadn’t figured out what she would have done to the captain when Scythe interrupted her. He had to start assessing her strengths and weaknesses as well as determining the extent of her powers. It was that, or keep them from acquiring her in the first place.
He shook his head and pushed the problem away for the moment. Then he turned again from the next, equally infuriating thought that had been waiting for its turn to harass him: it had been Mercy, not the Scere, who had engineered their meeting.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to rest, briefly thinking that it had been years since he had dealt with the types of decisions and problems that he had faced that week. He hoped it would be over soon, one way or another, because he needed to get back to his normal life.
Chapter 7
Ian embraced his daughter with a mixture of fond love and intense relief. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He kissed the top of her head and looked down at her, his hands cradling her cheeks.
“Yes. Scythe found me and took care of me, Dad. He didn’t let anything happen to me.” She turned in his arms and they both looked across at the line of Kin who had assembled in the courtyard to meet the Human unit.
Scythe stood next to Reave, along with another ten Kin soldiers. All their hands were loose, except for Scythe, who stood with his arms folded comfortably across his chest. He nodded to his old friend and said, “Ian.”
“Scythe, it’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.” Ian, an overtly affectionate man by nature, was noticeably cautious. All the border patrol were tense about the initial meeting, but he had additional pressures: the safety of his daughter and his obvious interest in Scythe. He had barely taken his eyes off Scythe from the moment he had arrived. “This is our captain, Termaine Rogers, and our second, John Ho.”
Reave stepped forward. “I am the Kin in charge here, Captain Reave. We will show you to your quarters and then meet up in thirty to discuss orders and compare notes on the terrorist threat.”
“Sounds good,” Captain Rogers said, stepping forward to shake Reave’s hand.
Mercy gently pulled her father over to Scythe as the two parties merged and headed toward the group of rooms that would serve as the Human barracks.
A reminder of the way he had treated him years ago, Ian put out his hand and shook Scythe’s vigorously, adding a friendly pat on the shoulder. His smile, however, was not as open as it used to be. “We’ve missed you, especi
ally Mercy here, and Lena. Did you know that she’s pregnant again?”
Scythe shook his head, “I hadn’t heard. Congratulations. That will make three, with the twins.”
“Yes,” Ian confirmed, smiling. He always brightened up when he talked about family. “They are a handful, I can tell you, both as obnoxious as their mother and as strong as Smoke. I have pictures I’ll show you later.”
Scythe nodded, “Sure. Do you want to see the barracks? We have already moved Mercy’s stuff over there.” He gestured, indicating the path the other group had taken.
“Not yet. I would like to catch up and talk privately if that is possible.”
“We’ll see,” Scythe said noncommittally. “It will be very hard to speak without being overheard around here.” He grabbed the two duffle bags on the floor next to Ian and started walking toward their room.
After a second, he heard Mercy and her father begin to follow him. Ian spoke to Mercy in a firmer voice, “I want you to tell me everything, Mercy. You’ve caused a huge political problem for us and for the Kin too. I also want to hear about Grant and the rest of the border patrol, the warehouse...everything.”
Scythe felt a tiny pulse of power behind him and turned toward the couple just as he reached the first barracks. Mercy held her father’s hand casually at her side; Ian had extended a very small ribbon from his hand and wrapped it around hers, similar to what Mercy had done in her room. The Kin couldn’t see it, of course; to anyone but him, it looked like they were just walking together. While many powered Humans could sense power nearby, Scythe had yet to find anyone that was able to 'see' power the way he could. He wasn’t even sure if it was visible at all; it was possible that what he perceived was merely a result of how his mind processed the flow of power around others. There were other Humans who, while they had some ability of their own, were not sensitive to the power of others at all. Then there was everyone else, the majority of the population, who could neither use nor sense any power.
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